Page 1 of Waggs

Prologue

Tipping the bottle back, Waggs drained the beer before placing it on the headstone with the other full one. Five years had passed since his brother had been laid in the ground at the Camp Nelson National Cemetery, close to his parents’ home in Lexington, Kentucky, and not a single day got easier.

Waggs sank to the cold ground and propped his elbows on his knees as he read the headstone.

Aaron Wagner

9th June 1982–8th November 2015

A loving son and brother.

Waggs hated the epitaph that didn’t, not for one-second, capture the essence of his twin brother. Everything written there was true, but Aaron had been so much more than just a son and brother. He’d been a friend, the best damn friend anyone could ever ask for. His best friend. They’d shared everything from the first moment their hearts had begun to beat—first steps, first words, first fight, first girlfriends.

He and Aaron had done everything together, even joined the army together. Then they’d applied for Special Forces training together where their natural competitiveness had got them through ninety-five weeks of gruelling hard work, but they had both got through it, the bond they shared stronger than ever. Ending up in the 5th Special Forces Group stationed at Fort Campbell, Kentucky, together had been the icing on the cake for the brothers who were so close.

Serving alongside Aaron as a Green Beret had been the biggest honour of Waggs’ life. He’d become a medic, and Aaron had trained as a sniper. Between them, they’d been invincible, able to read each other’s thoughts and actions with the eerie accuracy that only twins could do. He’d often known before Aaron did when his brother was sick or hurt, happy or sad, and the same had been the case for Aaron.

When Aaron met Willow Yates, he’d been so damn happy for him, burying his own attraction to her until he was sure he had it under control, that nobody knew he loved Willow too, and not as the sister she’d one day become after Aaron asked her to marry him and she said yes. Then they’d deployed to the sandbox straight after the engagement, and a routine aid mission had gone to hell.

Waggs grabbed the bottle of whiskey and took a swig, enjoying the burn of liquid as painful memories flooded his mind.

A child no older than eight or nine had run up to Aaron in the village, which wasn’t unusual; it happened when they visited the villages, keeping peace among the people of Afghanistan. Yet this had been different. Waggs had an awful gut reaction that something was wrong. Everything around him dimmed until he could see the four men at the corner of the village watching the child.

He’d seen the looks of malice and triumph on their faces, and he’d known, but before he had a chance to react, the bomb had exploded. The force had thrown him backwards, to the ground, winding him and knocking him senseless for a second, and then he’d rolled, and his vision had blurred. As the smoke receded and he’d seen Aaron, or what was left of him. Waggs had scrambled to his brother, his brain trying to assess the damage. The medic in him knew it was too late, but the brother fought the horror of reality.

He’d grabbed Aaron’s hand as his brother blinked up at him in shock, the bottom half of his body mostly gone, the fact he was still alive giving Waggs false hope.

“Hang in there, Aaron. We’re gonna get you some help.”

He tried to see what he could do, but even if he had an operating table in front of him, the damage was too extensive. His bottom half was just torn flesh, blood, and gore, the stuff of horror movies, but this wasn’t a movie; it was his brother’s broken body.

“Aiden.” His brother coughed, and his lips were covered in the blood from his lungs, which Aiden knew were full of blood.

“I’m here, Aaron.”

“I’m scared.”

Waggs fought tears as he held on to his brother’s hand tightly, willing him to live despite everything. “Don’t be scared, Aaron, I won’t leave you.”

And he hadn’t. He hadn’t left when his brother drew his last breath and slipped from the world, leaving him alone for the first time in his existence. He sat by his coffin as they waited for a plane to take them home, and he sat by his side on the aircraft. Waggs never left his twin once until they lowered him into the ground and his casket was covered in mud.

Closing his eyes, he relived those days over and over, only allowing himself to do it on the anniversary of his brother’s death. If he let it out at any other time, then he knew he’d crawl into the ground and die like Aaron had, like he wished every day he had.

His brother had every reason to live, and yet he couldn’t save him. It was something he struggled to live with, but it was the guilt of what he’d done next that ate him up every night. It was the reason he fought to help so many find the peace they sought because he’d never have it again.

The funeral had been horrific, his mother sobbing, his father holding her up both physically and mentally, as Waggs had stood stoic in his dress uniform, knowing that if he let the grief free, it would consume him until he was a mess on the ground.

Willow had sat silently crying, with her aunt supporting her, and Waggs had once again wished it had been him who died. He loved Willow, and so had his brother. She’d chosen well with Aaron, not that it had been a choice. Nobody knew how he felt, and he’d make sure it stayed that way, but he’d look after her.

Aaron had loved her so much and Aiden would make sure she was okay. The only problem was he’d taken it too far; they both had. He’d left Kentucky for his last tour before he retired from the military, his heart no longer in it and hadn’t seen her again until the call that changed everything, telling him he was going to be an uncle, and it shamed him enough that he’d run thousands of miles away and joined Eidolon.

They were his brothers now, and he loved them and would die for them, but nobody would ever replace his twin because they couldn’t.

Standing on legs that were unsteady after drinking most of a bottle of liquor, Waggs poured the rest over the headstone. “Love you, bro. I wish every day it had been me who died.” He tried to swallow the sob that lurched up to his throat and failed. “I miss you so much, Aaron. I wish you were here, and you could see the beauty you created. If I could go back, I’d make sure you lived. I let you down and I’m so sorry.”

Tears tracked down his face as the silence of the cemetery surrounded him, and he let the grief out. Tomorrow he’d shore it up and go home, back to Hereford where he could breathe a little easier from the guilt and shame, but first, he needed to see her.

As Waggs walked the few blocks from the cemetery to Willow’s home on the outskirts of Lexington, he tried to remember the sound of his brother’s voice and couldn’t. It made him panic, so he called up his saved messages and played the last one Aaron had sent him. The sound of his brother’s voice almost made his legs give way, the loss was so intense. Physical pain never hurt this bad, this was like living with a dagger through the heart.